


These Games We Play

by izazov



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Light Angst, M/M, Sibling Incest, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:50:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3106679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izazov/pseuds/izazov
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>This is a bad, terrible, dangerous idea, and Thor knew it from the start.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Games We Play

This is a bad, terrible, _dangerous_ idea, and Thor knew it from the start. But a combination of too much beer and Loki’s insistence has always come out a winner when facing against Thor’s will.

Actually, Loki’s insistence is usually all it takes. Thor has never been good at denying his younger brother anything. Beer only makes everything all the more dangerous.

But it’s only a game. Silly, little game, and Thor is too old, too drunk and too tired to play it. But it’s their game, has been ever since Loki learned of its existence, green eyes sparking mischievously as Thor said ‘dare’ for the first time years ago. They haven’t played it in a while now. Both too caught up with life and growing up. And, sadly, changing and drifting apart to indulge in their ritual of old. Well aware that most of it is his own fault, Thor could only say yes when Loki asked to play it again today. For old times’ sake.

“You are brooding, Thor.” Loki says, a hint of agitation seeping into his voice. “It’s annoying.”

Thor grins around the rim of his bottle, his eyes taking in the sight of his younger brother, sitting on the floor across from Thor and leaning against the wall, his beer seemingly forgotten on the floor near him, long fingers drumming a nervous beat against his right thigh.

That gives Thor a pause. His brother is far too good at masking his moods and emotions behind clever words and a wide variety of smiles for such an open and unguarded display of nervousness. A part of him, a small, jaded part, which knows that Loki never plays fair when he wants something, shouts panicked warnings, but a bigger part only wants to reclaim the simplicity and trust of their earlier years. And what better way than indulge themselves in a game that is the cause of so many happy memories. It has been fun playing this game throughout the years. It might have cost Thor months upon months of being grounded, but even if he had held back – admittedly, his imagination has never run quite as rampant as Loki’s – when inventing new and creative ways to get Loki in trouble when Loki picked dare, Loki has suffered through his share of stern looks and talks about responsibility and appropriate behaviour for young adults. 

Noticing the direction of Thor’s gaze, Loki frowns, clenching his hand into fist, forcing it into stillness. He inclines his head to the side, green eyes narrowing in thought. “What is troubling you, Thor?”

For one insane moment, Thor is ready to reveal his secret, his mouth opened around a torrent of words, so long buried deep, deep inside him. But then an image flashes before his mind’s eye – image of green eyes staring at him with open disgust ad horror – and he swallows the words, taking a long swing of beer.

“Concern, Loki?” Thor grins, even if it feels strained, his hand gripping the bottle tightly. “I feel like I should mark this day with bright red marker on my calendar.”

There is a flash of disappointment in the depths of Loki’s eyes, but it is gone almost instantly. Loki’s mouth turns upwards, so very slowly, and Thor knows that smirk, knows better than to trust it. And yet, all he does is try to take another swing of his beer, frowning in disappointment when met with an empty bottle.

“So… are we playing, or has the old age snuffed all the fun out of you?”

Putting away the empty bottle, Thor stays silent, holding Loki’s gaze unflinchingly, but it’s only a mask, hiding panicked thoughts and racing heartbeat. Thor has never shied from playing this game, ‘too simple to have secrets, and too brash to know when to say no’ as Loki put it a long time ago. And for a long time, it has been the truth. But Thor _has_ one secret. Just one. One secret, but big enough to bury him alive under the weight of shame and self-disgust.

And he has been guarding it for the last eight years. Since a sunny day at a lake, when an innocent scuffle between him and Loki ended up with Loki lying on his back, naked and wet, held down by Thor’s greater bulk and an iron grip around his wrists. Thor will never forget that day – the difference between the sweltering heat of the sun and the coolness of his brother’s body pressed against his own, the way Loki’s hair clung wetly to his face, his mouth parted around harsh breaths, green eyes staring up at Thor with a mixture of annoyance and fondness.

It’s remarkable how such an insignificant moment, a simple scene in the long line of similar ones, changed Thor’s life so completely. He can recall it with perfect clarity – his thundering heartbeat drowning out the sound of Loki’s voice, his entire world narrowing down to a small trickle of water sliding down Loki’s jaw to his slim neck, and in that moment, Thor wanted nothing more than chase it with his tongue, his body betraying him as heat pooled low in his belly. His reason caught up with him before Thor could lean down and go through with what his body demanded of him. Before he could shatter the bond between himself and his younger brother. He pushed himself off Loki as if burned, and quite literally fled from his younger brother, jumping into the lake, hoping that the cool water will bring him back to sanity.

It did, but it was only a temporary reprieve. His moment of lunacy turned into an entire life of lunacy, and after that day, Thor never quite managed to go back to the time when he could look at Loki and not want to run his hands and mouth all over his brother’s body, to touch and taste and claim as his own. He has never made a move to act on his desires, though, putting as much space as possible between them. Loki resents him, Thor knows it. He doesn’t ask for explanations anymore, looking betrayed and hurt, not for years now, but there are shadows in Loki’s eyes when directed at Thor. But there is still love, and that is all that matters.

Grabbing another bottle of beer, Thor chuckles. “I’m only three years older than you.”

“And now you’re also avoiding the answer. What’s the matter, Thor? Afraid I’ll make you run naked through the park?”

Thor pauses, his bottle raised halfway to his mouth. Loki wouldn’t do that. But only because he’d already made Thor do something similar already, and Loki hates to repeat himself. But there are so many other things Loki could dare him to do, and they are both well past the years when it could be excused by foolishness of youth. Thor knows all of this, but there is also a tiny voice inside him which whispers dirty and wrong things about what _he_ could _dare_ Loki to do. 

“Why should I?” Thor smirks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He is more than slightly buzzed, a pleasant feeling of warmth spreading through his bloodstream, making everything seem lighter and more exciting, and it makes him almost forget why is it a bad idea to crawl over to Loki and bite at his pouting lower lip. “I look good naked.”

Loki’s eyes widen slightly, a bewildered expression drawn across his face, but it morphs quickly into amused exasperation. “Arrogant as ever, Thor.” He snorts, his face growing serious as he studies Thor’s face quietly. “Besides, Sif would kill me if she found out.”

Thor freezes momentarily, his grin fading instantly. Carefully, he puts down the bottle, glancing away. “We’re not together anymore.” He says in a low voice. He’s not sure why he kept it a secret. As yet another barrier between himself and Loki, now that he’d lost the safety distance provided him with? Or because of shame? Sif deserved better than a man who sought only to forget his own sick desires in her bed. When he turns back toward Loki, he finds his brother regarding him with a carefully blank expression.

“I thought she was the one. Everyone did.” Loki says softly, and no matter how hard he tries, Thor finds no trace of mocking in Loki’s voice. Sif and Loki never cared much for each other, not even bothering to hide their mutual animosity. It was strenuous on Thor, to act a mediator every time they were in the same room together, acting very much like two angry cats. And now, when it’s all over, there is not even the ‘I told you so’ from Loki. Thor really must look like shit when Loki is holding back his tongue. “Father will be disappointed.”

Thor glances down, smiling ruefully. “It was for the best.” And it was. In another life, Thor could be happy with Sif. But not in this one. In this one, Thor carried a sickness in his heart and blood, and no matter how hard he tried, he wasn’t getting any better. “She said so herself.”

“ _She_?” Loki repeats, incredulous. “She was in love with you for years. And she’s as pig-headed as you are.” Inclining his head, his eyes boring into Thor’s as if he the sheer force of his gaze will make him see straight into Thor’s head. “What could have happe-… What did you _do_?”

Reaching for the bottle again, Thor takes a long swing. He should stop drinking, should have stopped already. Only, he doesn’t want to think about what he should do, or feel. He is too damn tired of it.

“People get together then break apart.” Thor smiles, a small chuckle falling from his lips at Loki’s agitated expression. “If you weren’t such a monk you’d know it’s normal.”

Loki regards him with a blank expression a moment. Then, slow, wide smirk stretches his lips, and Thor’s stomach twists with a feeling that is both apprehension and hunger.

“Discretion does not a monk make.” Loki says in a low, sultry voice which makes Thor’s throat go dry as sandpaper, his fingers tightening around the bottle still in his hand, as jealousy surges through him, unwelcome and uninvited. Thor has ever been thankful for Loki’s private and particular nature which made his teenage sex life almost non-existent. Thor had assumed – wrongly, as it seems – that the trend continued when Loki reached adolescence. Thor cannot have Loki. Of that he is well aware. But he doesn’t want anyone else to have him either. Even if that makes him the shittiest person in the world.

Loki rises his eyebrows, looking pointedly at the bottle in Thor’s hand. “You may want to relax a little, brother.” He smirks, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’ve been home not even one week. You don’t want to end up with stitches just yet.”

Thor blinks, frowning, but he loosens the grip on the bottle. He debates taking another swing, but his mind keeps going back to Loki’s innuendo from moments before, shadowy images of two bodies entwined taunting him with what he cannot have, and now he wants to know who can. He _needs_ to know.

“Who is it?” Thor asks, voice thick with what he hopes Loki cannot identify as jealousy. He sets aside the half-full bottle, still sober enough to realize that jealousy, his temper and alcohol are a time bomb. And Loki its trigger.

“Who is what?” Loki asks, feigning ignorance, and Thor clenches his hands tightly into fists, his nails digging painfully into the flesh of his palms.

“Don’t play games with me, Loki.” Thor all but growls, his heart racing as he clings desperately at the last shreds of self-control. “You know damn well who.”

“But you already said yes to playing.” The words are deceptively soft, but the look in Loki’s eyes is anything but. “Or have you changed your mind?”

Thor hesitates a fraction of a moment, knowing what the right answer is, but it is not the one he gives his brother.

“Of course not.” Thor says in a hoarse voice, squaring his shoulders definitely. “You presume too much, little brother.”

Loki grins, wide and triumphant, and Thor knows he is in trouble, but a large part of him – too drunk, too tired, too selfish – couldn’t care less.

“We’ll see about that, _big brother_.” Loki all but purrs, and the sound sends a shudder through Thor’s body. With a wide smile, Loki leans more comfortably against the wall. “I’ll even be generous and allow you to go first.”

“Truth or dare, Loki?” Thor asks after a brief moment of silence, hoping that Loki will pick truth, but knowing his contrary little brother, expecting dare.

Loki, the little shit, smirks knowingly, holding silent for one long moment, and when he finally speaks it’s in a voice so low it’s barely above a whisper, drowned out by the sound of Thor’s blood rushing wildly.

“What?” Thor asks, sure he heard Loki wrong.

“I said ‘truth’, Thor.” Loki states calmly, and Thor cannot help himself from grinning triumphantly, dimly aware that this is not what he’d expected, but hell if he’ll look a gifted horse in the mouth.

“Who are you involved with?” Thor asks, words coming out in a rush of breath.

“No one.” Loki says without missing a beat, looking very much pleased with himself.

“But you just said…” Thor starts, but finds himself unable to finish the sentence, anger mingling with an already potent cocktail of frustration, excitement and lust.

“I said nothing, Thor.” Loki shrugs, and Thor snaps his mouth shut, unsure at whom to be angrier – himself for being a fool, or Loki for being a double-crossing little weasel. “But what you assumed… I cannot be held accountable for that.”

“You’re cheating.” Thor states, glaring at Loki, but there is a sense of deep relief and satisfaction at the fact that no one is sharing Loki’s bed. Shame and guilt will come later, undoubtedly, but right now, what fills Thor’s chest is a fierce sensation of possessive and selfish joy. “As always.”

“You cannot blame me for your misconceptions, Thor.” Loki smiles pleasantly, and Thor cannot help but smile, feeling warm rush of love and affection for his brat of a brother. If only his feelings would stay within those bounds, free of lust and desire, his mind free of wondering how Loki lips would taste like, how soft is his skin. How would it sound to have that wicked mouth moaning his name. Loki’s smile turns sharp, eyes calculating as he adds. “But you can choose. Truth or dare, brother?”

Thor blinks, biting on his lower lip, his thoughts racing. It’s only a game, no one can force him tell the truth. And it’s not like Loki suspects Thor of harbouring this perverted desire for him. And yet. A small part of Thor wants the truth to get out in the open. At the risk of destroying everything. He is tired of carrying the weight of this secret so long. Tired of wanting what he cannot have. Tired of drowning in these feelings without even the smallest outlet.

Fixing Loki with a level stare, Thor hesitates a second, then releases a heavy sigh. “Dare.”

Loki looks disappointed for a moment, his mouth curving into a semblance of a smile. “Interesting. Is it only liquid courage or you’ve finally managed to acquire a secret or two?”

Thor snorts. “Never satisfied, are you, Loki?” Thor means it to be a joke, but Loki narrows his eyes, his jaw clenching momentarily. “You’ve always complained when I picked the truth. I thought to make you happy by picking dare.”

Loki’s eyes harden. “Aren’t you years too late for that? _Brother_.”

Thor winces at Loki’s tone – accusing and hurt alike. It has been years since Loki last voiced his confusion, hurt and anger at Thor for keeping distance from him. But the resentment is still there, in the tight clench of Loki’s jaw, and the narrow-eyed glare of his green eyes. And Thor cannot do anything but take it in silence. He cannot defend himself without revealing the reason behind his behaviour. He can claim love, but he cannot prove it.

But that doesn’t mean he isn’t willing to try.

“Loki, I know I haven’t always been here for you.” Thor says, and it’s difficult to choose the words, when they have never been his strength and there is so much he needs to keep locked inside himself. Thor is a man of action, but ever since his discovery, he’d made sure to keep his hands away from Loki, not trusting himself with even the most innocent gestures of brotherly affection. And he wants so badly to pull Loki into his arms now and hug him tightly, it’s making his hands itch with barely restrained desire to touch and to soothe the hurt written plainly on Loki’s face. “But you must know that I love you.”

Loki regards him silently, emotions flickering across his face in rapid succession, but then an impassive mask settles over his features, and Thor cannot decide whether it’s a good or a bad sign.

“Get up and stand still.” Loki commands in an even voice. “Keep quiet and don’t move a muscle, or you lose.”

Thor licks his dry lips, frowning at Loki, but obeys his brother’s command, standing up. It could have been worse, much worse, and as far as dares go, this one lacks Loki’s usual creativity, but despite that, Thor cannot calm a nervous flutter in the pit of his belly. Nothing is ever this simple with Loki.

Loki looks up at him, his impassive expression slowly dissolving into something bordering on vicious as he also rises to his feet. Thor watches him warily, breathing deeply. He feels like a fool, but even more, he feels uncomfortable and exposed under the scrutiny of his brother’s sharp gaze. And for one brief moment of utter panic, Thor is sure Loki _knows_. Knows what sickness lies inside Thor, what perverted desire courses through his blood.

Caught up in thought, Thor misses when Loki moves to stand behind him, releasing a hiss of breath when he feels a light touch of fingers against the exposed skin of his neck. The touch is light, a barest brush of knuckles, and then it is gone, but it takes all Thor’s control not to turn around, his breathing turning harsh and irregular.

Silence stretches into agony as Thor stands utterly still, viscerally aware of Loki’s presence behind his back, close enough for Thor to feel the warmth emanating from his body. Thor grits his teeth, his nostrils flaring as he tries to hang on the last thread of reason and self-control. Three different impulses are fighting for dominance inside him – his mind is telling him to stop this foolish game, his blood is roaring its desire for closing the minute distance which separates him from Loki, but, in the end, his pride comes out the victor. He remains still, unwilling to cede defeat. Not even in a silly game, which suddenly feels not at all silly anymore. Even if the stakes remain unclear to him.

A low chuckle resonates behind him. “Stubborn as always.” Loki says, amused. “I was counting on it, to be honest.” A momentary silence, then. “There is something I wanted to tell you for years now, and I need you to listen to me.”

Thor swallows, the nervous flutter in the pit of his stomach turning into outright dread. Even if Loki has no idea about Thor’s inappropriate desires, Thor somehow knows that Loki’s next words will change everything between them. But to what end, that remains to be seen.

“I’ve hated you, you know.” The words fall from Loki’s lips lightly, like he is discussing the newest book he’d read, but to Thor they feel like being hit by a freight train. He stays still, but more out of shock than by conscious decision. “You have no idea what it’s like to be your brother. How it feels to have people judge you for not who you are but who your brother is.”

Loki pauses, but does not move from behind Thor’s back. The shock of Loki’s revelation slowly fades, but when Thor opens his mouth to say something, no words come out. And not because of the stupid dare. He never even suspected. They have always been different, both in appearance as well as in character, but if there is one truth Thor has never doubted, it’s the love between them.

Another touch, firmer this time, a teasing glide of fingers against his neck. A shudder runs through Thor’s body, and he closes his eyes, feeling like the entire world is somehow crumbling all around him, and all he can do is stand utterly still and allow it happen.

“My beautiful, perfect golden brother.” Loki whispers, and Thor can feel each word as a soft exhale against the shell of his ear. They are almost equal size, with Thor broader and sturdier where Loki is lithe and slim, so it’s not a challenge for Loki to lean against him so he could whisper in his ear. But it’s a challenge for Thor to stand still, his mind and body at a war against one another. One demands distance and peace, time to process what Loki has uncovered. And all the other wants is more – more of that light touch of Loki’s fingers, more than a simple brush of Loki’s body as he leans against Thor’s back. It’s frustrating and agonizing, and Thor feels like he will shatter to pieces any second now. He has no idea what force is holding him still and silent, when every cell inside his body feels like it’s lit aflame.

When Loki finally moves, his low, mirthless chuckle echoing loudly in the silence of Thor’s room, Thor is both relieved and frustrated at the loss of contact. He doesn’t open his eyes, but he can hear Loki’s soft footsteps as his brother circles him slowly. The footsteps stop, but Thor keeps his eyes closed. Is it courage or cowardice, he cannot tell. Or think, concentrating on nothing but the next intake of breath.

“I have hated you, but it paled in comparison how much I hated your friends. How I hated Jane. And now Sif.” Thor winces at the vehemence with which Loki says their names, his eyes snapping open. He regrets the decision immediately. Loki, who always kept everything for himself, always so cautious when it came to revealing more of himself, even in front of Thor, now looks at Thor with eyes brimming with raw emotion, looking somehow vulnerable and dangerous at the same time. It feels very much like looking into a distorted mirror – all Thor’s fears and longing reflecting back at him, only with an added bonus of anger and resentment. A small smile quirks his brother’s lips, but it stays clear of his eyes. He reaches out, cupping Thor’s cheek gently, his thumb brushing lightly against Thor’s jaw. Without thinking, Thor leans further into Loki’s touch, savouring the contact. “How I hated everyone who occupied your attention.” Keeping his eyes fixed on Thor’s, Loki moves his hand lower, slowly dragging his fingers down Thor’s neck and chest, until he stops, splaying his palm over Thor’s heart. “And heart. _Especially_ your heart.”

A shudder runs through Thor’s body, his breath catching in his throat. His hands are trembling uncontrollably and his heart is trying to beat its way out of Thor’s chest. This is impossible, Loki must be playing with him, because if he’s not, if he’s not, then…

Swallowing, Thor closes his eyes again. He’s not a coward, never has been, but he cannot look anymore into Loki’s eyes and see all that is plainly written there. This is either his most wished for dream, or his worst nightmare coming to life, and Thor cannot decide which one is true.

“Still playing, Thor? I thought even _you_ wouldn’t be this stubborn.” Loki’s voice comes out challenging, but now there is faint tremor to it. “Very well, then.” A pause, and Thor wants to laugh at that, because his clever younger brother couldn’t be further from the truth. Thor is not playing anymore, and standing still is the last thing he wants, even if he doesn’t know what does he actually want – turn and run, or pull Loki close – but it’s like he has no control over his body, reduced to a statue, frozen in dread and indecisiveness. “You know, I was fourteen when I first brought myself off to the thoughts of you.”

The shock value of those words almost makes Thor’s knees buckle under him, his lungs freezing in his chest. He opens his eyes, and the look on his face must be truly something, because Loki’s face softens fractionally, an affectionate smile flickering across his face. “It’s your fault, you know. For looking the way you do.” He says softly, and Thor feels lost, still unsure whether all this is true or just another of Loki’s games. A clever ruse with the intention of tempting Thor into confessing his secret. Loki comes closer and doesn’t stop until their chests are touching. Loki’s face is so near his own, so very, very near, and Thor needs only to tilt his head to the side, and he will swallow the next breath that comes out of Loki’s mouth. Loki still has his hand over Thor’s heart, and even if Thor stays perfectly still, resisting the temptation of Loki’s mouth, his heart tells a different tale, and all Loki has to do is listen. Loki leans slightly forward, his lips bushing lightly against Thor’s, and Thor can actually feel the forming of that familiar wicked smirk.

With a low sigh, Loki takes a step back, leaving only the tips of his fingers against Thor’s chest. “Would you like me to describe you what I pictured while I had my fingers wrapped around my cock, knowing you were in the next room, with only a thin wall keeping us apart?”

Thor bites down on his lower lip, tasting copper, his eyes fixed firmly on the truly sinful glint in Loki’s eyes. Oh, he wants to know. Wants to hear every dirty and wrong thing Loki could have imagined, wants to recreate every single one of them, heat pooling low in his gut, going even lower. The realization hits him then, belatedly. Fourteen, Loki had only been fourteen years old then, and a wave of nausea washes over Thor, leaving him shivering and gasping for breath, disgusted at himself. But it’s still not enough to stop him from getting hard.

Loki’s eyes flick toward Thor’s groin, an expression of triumph lighting up his face. “Or better yet. I could show you.” And with that, Loki sinks to his knees in front of Thor, his hands coming to rest on Thor’s hips. “You always did prefer a more practical approach.”

The sight of his brother on his knees in front of him, his mouth so close to the very obvious bulge in Thor’s jeans, is at the same time the most beautiful and the most horrifying sight he’s ever seen. Loki looks up at him, the very picture of sin, his fingers slowly gliding toward the button of Thor’s jeans. Sucking in a harsh breath, Thor clenches his hands into fists, not looking away from Loki. It’s like standing on the very edge of the abyss, knowing that standing still is no longer an option, with only two roads in front of him – to take the leap or run back. 

Loki pops open the button of Thor’s jeans, his fingers shaking almost imperceptibly as he pulls the zipper down, and that finally snaps Thor into action. Whether this is a game or truth no longer matters. What matters is that Loki is his younger brother and if anyone will bear the burden of this sin, it will not be Loki.

Wrapping his fingers around Loki’s biceps, Thor hauls him upright, pulling him tight against his own body. “ _Loki_.” He breathes his brother’s name, and it comes out as a warning and a plea both.

Loki stands still one second, a look of bewilderment on his face slowly morphing into that of hurt and defiance. “You lose.” Loki says, but he sounds bitter, not triumphant, his eyes looking old, far older than they have any right to look. Loki tries to jerk himself free, but it only makes Thor tighten his grip. “Thor, let go. The game is over.”

The corner of Thor’s lips twitches at that. He’s never been as quick on the uptake as Loki, but he is far from stupid. This has never been a game, but a test. And whether this will make him fail or pass, Thor does not care in the slightest. Abandoning his hold on Loki’s arms so he could cradle Loki’s face between his palms, Thor smiles softly. Loki frowns but doesn’t try to pull away, settling for a searching look of Thor’s face. “No.” Thor whispers a second before he seals his mouth over Loki’s.

Loki’s eyes widen and Thor swallows his gasp of surprise. If he ever allowed himself to imagine how their first kiss would be like, this soft, tentative brush of lips would never be his first guess. It should have been something rushed and desperate, a violent clash of mouths and bodies after so many years of longing. One of Thor’s hands slides lower, to the back of Loki’s neck, angling his face and deepening the kiss, tasting the inside of Loki’s mouth – beer and something sweet. Loki’s eyes flutter closed and he moans into Thor’s mouth, his hands finding purchase on Thor’s shoulders.

Thor breaks the kiss, leaning his forehead against Loki’s, keeping his hold firm on the back of Loki’s neck. He’d taken the leap and he’s still falling, the lingering taste of his brother’s lips on his own an accusation all on its own, but Thor cannot force himself to feel shame or guilt now. It will come later, he knows it, but right now, all he cares about is the slightly dazed and awed expression on Loki’s face.

“You’re wrong, brother.” Thor says fondly, and Loki’s eyes snap open at the word ‘brother’, but there is no trace of regret or accusation in his eyes, only love and longing. “I win.”

Loki snorts, rolling his eyes, but whatever scathing remark was on his lips, it gets swallowed by Thor’s mouth.


End file.
